


Small Requiem

by JoAsakura



Series: Small Requiem (Harry Potter) [1]
Category: Harry Potter - Rowling
Genre: Angst, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-06-22
Updated: 2003-06-22
Packaged: 2017-10-03 15:05:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JoAsakura/pseuds/JoAsakura
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lupin is coping badly. Snape is awkward. Post-OOTP.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Small Requiem

Small Requiem

(I am holding a crying werewolf in my arms) Snape found himself thinking, detached, as if it were something commonplace like "restock mugwort".

He wasn't certain, precisely what to make of it until another thought randomly appended the first one. (Werewolves don't cry.) They didn't. The sound was more of a soft keening, raising the hair on the back of his neck.

He awkwardly patted the head on his shoulder, as if Lupin were, instead perhaps, a large dog with pleasantly soft-coarse fur.

Dog.

(Oh, yes. That's right.) He sighed. That's how this came to be.

-earlier-

Number 12 Grimmauld place gave off a distinctly unpleasant whiff of abortive dreams as Snape stood at the door, examining the doorknocker minutely. A silver serpent stuck its tarnished tounge at him in a perpetual raspberry, reminding him of the insane turn of events in the last several weeks.

He squelched down a sudden rise of ire at Potter. Potters. He should have guessed the little cretin would have looked in the pensieve. He should have... Snape stopped the thought there, examining it like the doorknocker. Anything to delay actually going inside.

He should have been more careful. As much as he disliked Potter, he should have been more careful while teaching him occlumency. As much as he hated to admit it, Snape had to take a small bit of responsiblity there.

Potter. Potter led inextricably to Black, and the entire reason he was standing outside of 12 Grimmauld Place, dithering.

To say that Severus Snape felt bad about Sirius's death would have been a grotesque overstatement of the facts. But to be fair, he didn't take as much pleasure in it as he had hoped he would someday.

More to the point, he felt an uncomfortable twinge of sympathy towards Lupin. The werewolf had thrown himself singlemindedly into Order business, surfacing from the depressing House of Black (Snape paused himself again. Yes. Even HE found the decapitated house-elf motif depressing and not a small bit disturbing as well) only rarely. He should have been happy that one of the Marauders was steeping in misery, but he found that all things considered, he wasn't.

(You did help get him fired a few years back, Severus) He reminded himself. It was true. In retrospect it had been a churlish and petty retribution directed more at Potter and Black than it had been towards Lupin.

Out of all of that distasteful little pack (Pack. Hah.), he'd always found Remus Lupin to be the least objectionable. And while he was low on actual affection for the werewolf, Voldemort's return and a crushing sense of impending doom had suggested that perhaps he try to get his past in order before all of his boyhood nemeses were gone.

Before he could talk himself out of it, Snape rang the doorbell, waiting for the shrieks of Black's mother's deranged portrait.

Silence, followed by footsteps and the click-clack of latches unlatched. Then Lupin was looking at him as if he were a million miles away.

"... Severus." He said finally, weary amber eyes blinking slowly. "come in. I'm not going to waste your time with pleasantries, I'm sure you're very busy." Lupin stepped aside as he spoke, allowing Snape enterance into the foyer. "I'm the only one about at the moment, but if you've got a report, I'll take care of it." His voice was as mild as ever, at odds with hollow space behind his eyes.

"Actually, Lupin." Snape straightened himself, absently brushing at his black overcoat. "I... came by to.. to speak to you."

Lupin blinked again. "About what?" He pushed his hands into the pockets of his shabby trousers and frowned slightly.

"In all the fuss over Potter... I daresay no one has thought to check on you in regards to Black's demise." Snape's eyebrow quirked as he said that, watching Lupin process the information.

"Yes, well... Harry is..was.. is quite attached to Sirius. And children's hearts wound so much worse than an adult's." The amber eyes flicked up to meet Snape's dark ones, the words heavy in the air between them. "He misses his godfather."

"And you.You miss your lover." Sensing the tenuous apology in Lupin's words, Snape worked mightily to keep the derision out of his voice, but the werewolf's mouth thinned.

"Severus. I'm tired. I'm certain we both have better things to do then this." Lupin turned, pausing when Snape cleared his throat.

"As tempting as it might seem, I am not here to mock you, Lupin." He squared his shoulders and drew his own mouth into a hard line. "I am sincerely here to offer you my condolences, regardless of my dislike for Black." He watched Lupin's shuttered face waver. So. He had been right after all. It was possible that even Dumbledore didn't realize the depth of affection the two had had for each other. And quiet, steadfast Lupin was simply allowing everyone to believe he mourned simply for a lost friend.

"Out of all of your little club, I always found you the least reprehensible, Lupin." Snape muttered. He had more to say, he found, welling up inside of him, but he set it aside as he watched the other man lean against the banister, teeth worrying his lower lip.

"Severus. I... Suh-... I.." It was as though the soft-spoken werewolf's brain had suddenly short-circuited, his too-thin form shaking as if touched by the cruciatis curse. Snape caught him as he lurched unsteadily away from the support of the banister, and the potions master realized unpleasantly that as little pleasure he had derived from Black's actual death, he derived even less from this.

The keening had started with a hiccuping sound, a hitch in Lupin's throat that may have been words attempting to work themselves free, but then a white hand dug into the heavy black fabric of Snape's overcoat and the dam broke in Lupin's heart.

~~~~

He pet Lupin's hair again as the heart-rending sound slowly died against his shoulder. The werewolf was shivering against him, and some unavoidable mental image of a lost wolf-cub alone in the cold nudged its way into the forefront of his imagination. At that, Snape realized to his mild horror that he was hugging Lupin with his other arm.

"Lu.. Remus." He said as gently as he was able. "I truly am sorry."


End file.
